Wordplay
by Eve Royal
Summary: A series of drabbles, ficlets, and oneshots all inspired by A.Word.A.Day. Canon pairings if any. Enjoy, y'all!
1. Triskaidekaphobia

A/N: No idea how often I will update or how long these will be. Just trying to keep myself from getting bored.

Disclaimer: I do not own TT. Prompts are inspired by A Word A Day.

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**Triskaidekaphobia**

The smell wafted up and entered his nose, filling him with warmth and causing his stomach to rumble. He sighed, closing his eyes and savoring these brief moments of peace.

"Man, Cy," he muttered, opening his eyes to grin at the hybrid. "They smell _amazing_."

"Thanks, Rob," he answered, flipping another pancake. "It's an old family recipe."

"_Dude_!" Beast Boy cried, ears flat. "It's _an-imals_!"

Robin sighed. "They're just pancakes, Beast Boy." He rubbed a hand over his face, already exasperated.

"Hell-_o_! _Eggs_!"

"Are not fertilized," Raven interrupted. "Calm down, do-gooder."

Beast Boy dropped back in his seat, nose wrinkled in distaste, arms crossed tight over his chest.

The doors slid open and Starfire floated into the Common Room, her flight erratic. Her face was pale, her eyes heavy and weary.

Cybord didn't look up from his pan. "Mornin', girl," he greeted, raising an arm.

"Salutations," she murmured, floating over to the kitchen.

"Hey," Robin called, watching her with worry etched on his face. "What's wrong?"

She slowly glided over and slid into the seat next to him. "I have had many of the bad dreams," she answered, rubbing her eyes. "Perhaps we should not have..." she drifted off, staring at the table.

Robin's mask narrowed and he touched her hand. "Star?"

"Well, this ought'a help," Cyborg said, placing a plate of pancakes on the table in front of them. "Eat up, y'all!"

Starfire's eyes slowly ran up the stack of pancakes and, upon reaching the top, grew wide with terror. She fell very still, a small sound escaping her mouth.

"Starfire?" Raven asked. "Are you okay?

"Thirteen," the alien mumbled.

Robin frowned. "Thirteen?"

She pointed a trembling finger at the pancakes. "Thirteen." Her eyes fell to the table. "Thirteen," she repeated loudly, staring at Robin's fork.

He picked it up and mentally counted the amount of cutlery on the table: four sets and Raven's lone spoon. Then he counted the pancakes. "Thirteen," he summed up. His eyes grew wide in realization. "Oh, boy."

Starfire suddenly aimed a glowing fist at the stack of pancakes. "No! I shall not allow you to be victorious this time!"

"Wait, Star!" Robin cried, scrambling to his feet. He grabbed her arm and pulled on it, only succeeding in looking ridiculous as she did not budge. "They're not cursed! We're not in the movie!"

Her head snapped over to him and her eyes locked on his from behind his mask. "They have washed your brain," she whispered, horrified. Her gaze hardened in determination. "I must rescue you," she declared.

"Wait a sec-" He was cut off by her picking him up and slinging him over her shoulder. She turned back to the pancakes and, barely giving Cyborg enough time to yelp and leap out of the way, blasted the pancakes. Batter hit the ceiling and coated the walls, the plate shattered with a loud crash, smoke exploded from the hit, and both Raven and Beast Boy hit the floor, their hands covering their heads.

Satisfied, Starfire flew out of the Common Room, ignoring Robin's squawks of protest and indignation as she carried him out.

Slowly, Raven lifted her head and lowered her hands to the floor. She eyed the door warily for another moment before sighing and sitting up, rubbing her head. "And the moral of the story is...?" she asked wryly.

"No more horror movies for Star," Beast Boy and Cyborg chorused, slowly lifting their heads.

"Good," she muttered, shaking her head to herself.

_(Definition: Fear of the number thirteen.)_


	2. Contradistinguish

**Contradistinguish**

"Okay. Let's try this again."

"Right."

"Ready?"

"Let's do it."

"And... go!"

"Okay, you like red cars, you like blue; you hate oranges but love orange juice, you love blackberries but hate blackberry jam; your favourite animal is the wolverine, yours is the rhinoceros. You sleep on the left side, you sleep on the right; you like gardening, you think it's gay."

"Halfway mark."

"You like stripes and polka dots make you sick, you like spots and think stripes make you look fat; you like basketball, you like soccer; you love Starfire's hair, you love her eyes."

"Two more."

"You like cars, and you prefer motorcycles; and you wear size six and you wear size five-and-a-half!"

There was a long pause, then Aqualad winced, pressing the buzzer. "_So_ sorry! _Menos_ wears size six shoes and _Mas_ wears five-and-a-half."

"Dammit!" Speedy swore, slamming his fists down unto his legs.

Mas and Menos laughed and gave each other high-fives, falling back into the couch from their glee.

Aqualad patted Speedy's shoulder. "Tough luck," he consoled.

Speedy scowled, crossing his arms and slouching in his chair. "I hate this game," he grumbled.

Mas finally controlled himself. "Aww..." he cooed.

"Pobre tomate," Menos finished.

Speedy's head popped back up and he glared fire at them. "Don't call me that!"

Aqualad sighed as the boys fell back into the cushions once again overcome with laughter. He looked down at Speedy. "Wanna try again?"

_(Definition: __To distinguish (one thing from another) by contrasting qualities__.)_


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